


Pursuit

by ImhereImQuire



Category: Vampire Chronicles - Anne Rice
Genre: Angst, Hunting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-12
Updated: 2013-01-12
Packaged: 2017-11-25 05:14:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 650
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/635486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImhereImQuire/pseuds/ImhereImQuire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Armand pursues Daniel.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Pursuit

Oh he was a pretty thing. The worn threads of his clothing, the dirtiness of his hair, those things might obscure it, but only slightly. He had the tall, slim build of the modern young men, so unlike Armand's own softer, more compact frame. His blank, slightly cynical stare and loose limbed walk were very much a product of his time, but those eyes?

            Those eyes, like all eyes, were timeless. Timeless... and not flawless -no such thing existed, the curse of preternatural sight- but beautiful. In another time they might have been 'proof' of the hold of the devil. In these modern times they received nothing but incredulity... after all they had contact lenses in every colour of the rainbow now.

            The boy stood, crushing the coffee cup beside him and shoving his book into his rucksack. Armand shifted slightly, coming to life once more after hours of watching, waiting beyond the circle of light cast by the MacDonalds window, observing the bookish young man turning the pages with a distracted slowness. Show time.           

            It was an old thrill, but a sweet one, nevertheless. Would the youngster pass by the park, or was he going to spurn fate and find sanctuary in the semi populated bus station, or make his way to the parking lot. Armand exhaled slowly, a smile of surprising fondness curving his lips as the boy crossed the street and made for the park. Beautiful, Armand thought again, watching him walk a while, as he followed silently. The background noise of the city, the whip of the wind meant nothing, every sense was focused on the youngster, still a child in so many ways but with such world weariness. Armand would resolve that all to quickly, he thought to himself, as the path took them deeper, the foliage become thicker, the canopies of the trees nearly brushing the top of the boy's head by now... not something which troubled Armand, who navigated the thicket easily.           

            Another turn uncovered sudden darkness, the street light blown or vandalised and the opportunity was there, sudden and irresistible. Armand was a blur, and the youngster didn't have a chance. Armand's embrace was swift, his fangs bringing sweetness which soon seduced the writhing, struggling victim in his arms. The blood was an explosion he himself was unprepared for, vivid and near overwhelming. He moaned aloud, he couldn't help himself, becoming as unfocused and languid as the poor fool who bled so generously for him.           

            More, more, more... the heart kept up with him for a while, even outpaced him, beating like a struggling bird as he drew the blood. His thirst felt limitless, and it wasn't until the heart slowed that he could bear to bring his mouth away, bringing them both, slumped and unsteady, to the ground. “You preferred me when I was a monster, didn't you, Daniel? And so I shall be. Come home with me tonight or I will drain you here in the shadows, pluck out your lovely eyes and take those back to Rome with me instead. This has gone on for long enough!”.           

His fledgling blinked slowly, hand touched to his already healed throat. “Armand... you're insane” he said slowly “If you think that I'm going to run away to Rome because you're sick of your new toys – Marius told me that you killed them, you know” he continued, pinching the bridge of his nose in exasperation “You can't do this. I'm not the boy you were obsessed with, Armand, and we both know it.”. 

            There was such violence his maker's eyes; the spite and malice of an enraged child blind to everything but rage. Armand's body shook with anger, then with sudden spouting tears. Bloodied tears flowed down his angelic face and he did nothing to stop it, even as they dripped from his nose, undignified and child like. “Please... couldn't we just pretend?”


End file.
